Learning How To Live
by WeasleyIsMyKingxo
Summary: George Weasley is in need of a pick-me-up. Regardless of whether he's willing to admit to it or not.
1. Chapter 1 Intro

AN: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters mentioned in this story. They belong to JKR, Warner Brothers, and whoever else. No copyright infringement is meant. Also, comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated!

It was gloomy, overcast. The sort of day that makes you wish you had stayed in bed, relaxing with a steaming cup of tea and a good book. The clouds were swirling ominously overhead, foreshadowing the downpour that was sure to fall in a few moments time. George sighed to himself as he observed the less than desirable weather through the front window of his shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He sat at the main desk, his head resting in one of his hands, the other twirling his underworked quill between his fingers. He always hated times like these, times when nothing was going on. It was hard for him to run from his thoughts that way. Time had sped by, sure. The fifth anniversary of the second Wizarding War had passed several months ago and as the loud celebrations continued through the night, George sat alone, mourning the loss of his other half. Mourning the loss of himself, really. Everyone, including George, knew that he hadn't—and probably never would, be the same person again. He shook his head, refusing to succumb to any slight thought of Fred. Instead, he turned his attention to what was right in front of him—his work.

Business at the joke shop had slowed down dramatically since the start of term at Hogwarts a little over a week ago. It was the same way, though, year in and year out. The monotony had begun to take its' toll on the once lively jokester. He looked down at the blank sheet of parchment in front of him, praying for some sort of divine inspiration to strike him with a new idea. It had been far too long since he had come up with some new gadget to sell. Being that it was only his mind at work now; fresh, brilliant products were few and far between. It always used to be that he would either start or finish the idea for something new; it was hard to form a complete thought anymore. The process not only eluded him, but his new partner, Ron, as well. He was grateful for Ron's help, of course, but he would never fill the void left by Fred. He looked over at his younger brother, watching for a moment as he restocked the shelves. George could feel proud of that, however. It was the first time in a while that they had managed to nearly empty the shop from business.

George smiled to himself slightly at Ron's enthusiasm for business. He had never seen someone do something as simple as refilling shelves with as much gusto as his brother managed to summon. It made him proud to be not only his sibling, but his business partner as well. George could admit to being a bit skeptical when Ron suggested helping out at WWW, but he had never been more wrong. Adding Ron to the team had been one of the most strategic career moves he had ever made, without even realizing it. As he watched him work, the urgency of George coming up with a new idea finally hit him. They had sold out of nearly everything, he realized. Groaning in frustration, he put his head in both of his hands.

"Doing alright there, Georgie?," Ron asked, his concern showing in his tone of voice. George looked up, as Ron approached, an empty cardboard box tucked under his arm. George hadn't realized that he had managed to make his shock of unruly red hair stand up in nearly every direction. "Yeah, yeah, fine," he said, waving his hand as if dismissing Ron's worry. "Though, it would help if we could string together a coherent thought for a product," he admitted his worry, finally.

Patting George on the back supportively, Ron flung the empty box into the back room and took a seat next to his elder brother. "We'll find a way," he stated, trying his hardest to be convincing. Though Ron could be less than sensitive to the feelings of others, he knew in a time like this that George was missing Fred. Holding back a chuckle, Ron looked back at George. "I know something that'll get your mind off of all this," he suggested. George looked skeptically at Ron's nearly guilty expression and arched an eyebrow. "What exactly would that be?," he asked, giving a warning look. "Mum expects you for dinner tonight," Ron said, clearly fighting back a belly laugh at George's haggard expression.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters mentioned in this story. They belong to JKR, Warner Brothers, and whoever else. No copyright infringement is meant. I'm not being paid. Also, comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated!

George frowned to himself as he slipped his arms through each sleeve of his new leather jacket with an exaggerated slowness that he thought only reflected his enthusiasm for the family dinner tonight. It had become a habit of his mother's to ask him series upon series of invasive questions about his love life. Normally, he would just sigh and answer all of them the same way, that he did not have a girlfriend. Work was always the perfect excuse for him. 'Too busy.. too much to do,' he would say with a simple wave of his hand before turning his attention back to his dinner. Even if it wasn't the whole truth, it got her off his back for a bit and that was enough for him.

He had to admit, it was a bit of a relief to be questioned about why he was alone than her previous line of inquiries. A silver lining he could cling to through his discomfort. Almost seeming as if she was musing aloud, she would ask George if he was 'doing alright' accompanied by an accusing look. He always knew exactly what that meant—"It's about that time George.. About time to be coping with not having Fred." It was beyond his power to explain exactly why he hadn't gotten over Fred's death. He was to the point where he was coping, it didn't control every thought he had throughout the day. The day was usually when he didn't have to worry about the emotions he was suppressing sneaking up on him. At night, however, when he was surrounded by the flat that he and his twin has worked so hard to earn, it was nearly impossible to keep the thoughts from his head. With no distractions and every memory of the place having a connection, he was free to drown in the sorrow he refused to show around anyone else. Sure that the small outburst he had at the last family dinner had put an end to her insinuations, he felt a bit guilty and decided he would just deal with the round of questioning tonight, whatever the topic. He let out a sigh, a bit louder than he had hoped at the memory before turning his attention back around to Ron, who had clearly picked up on his distress.

"I could always tell her you're sick, you know..," Ron suggested, shrugging his denim jacket on casually. Not having Fred around made a great change in George. Almost as if he needed a constant in his life, he had adopted Ron as a teammate, a new best friend. Ron, catching onto that quickly, did he best to fulfill that role—always looking out for George when he couldn't look out for himself. George managed a small smile at his brother's offer, but shook his head to decline. "You know mum, that'll only make it worse," she said, shutting off the lights in the living room. "She would probably just show up here, thinking I'd gone mad or was planning to off myself," he laughed a little at his own joke, receiving only a more worried look from his younger sibling.

"She seems to think I'm hopeless at finding a girlfriend," George said, hoping it would get them away from the subject. Ron shook his head and let out a small laugh. "Apparently she doesn't see some of the way some of these girls act, coming in the joke shop," he said. George rolled his eyes, imaging many of the Hogwarts aged girls who would giggle at all of his jokes, even when he knew they weren't funny. And the young women who cycled in and out of the store, allowing themselves a moment to flirt at the cash register. "Why don't you go for one of them… really?," Ron asked, arching an eyebrow. "Some of them are at least attractive. It's a start." George looked at Ron and shrugged. "They just don't have what I'm looking for," he said simply, not wanting to elaborate on it, honestly, because he didn't think he could. "C'mon, let's get a move on. Mum will have our heads if we're late," he sighed, grabbing the top of Ron's arm and apparating to the Burrow.


End file.
